


And There's Music Playing

by Lanerose



Series: Lane's Yuri!!! On Ice Fics [9]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-13 07:21:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12978969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lanerose/pseuds/Lanerose
Summary: In a world where you hear the music to which you will fall in love long before you see your soulmate, Yuuri and Viktor’s songs don’t match.A yurionice-secretsanta gift for thetoastlady!





	And There's Music Playing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BoredMoose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoredMoose/gifts).



> Happy winter holiday of your choosing! =D

Yuuri was twelve the first time he heard his song aloud, rather than in his head. Later, he would learn that the piece was not an uncommon choice for figure skaters. That dozens, perhaps hundreds of skaters have taken to the ice to it, to say nothing of the scores of musicians and dancers to have interpreted the piece. 

At the time, he did not know any of that. 

At the time, he only knew that the most beautiful boy he had ever seen was making poetry out of a song that has been written within his very soul.

“That’s Victor Nikiforov!” Yuuko exclaimed as Yuuri’s hand rose involuntarily to clutch at his chest. 

Beneath Yuuri’s clothing, scrawled above his heart is a long word in katakana. With some alteration, it nearly says skate. Yuuri read along the bottom of the screen the English title of the piece – Scheherezade. Later, Yuuri would read the story to confirm what he saw in Victor’s skating – a woman who must tell a new story every night to keep a cruel sultan from killing her until he falls in love with her. 

Skating to Scheherezade, this boy, Victor Nikiforov, was everything that Yuuri never knew he wanted. He was elegant and smooth, with limbs that were almost too long managing not to look ungainly but somehow precisely on the line of awkward and beautiful. His spread eagles in particular were a thing of beauty, sensuous and sweeping. The music carried to its highest point and he leapt, effortless, traveling cleanly across the ice in a black costume with a slight skirt.

It wasn’t love at first sight, but it was pretty close.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Victor was seventeen the first time he heard his song aloud. Victor’s heart has borne the word Малага since he was four years old. As a child, he learned to pronounce it as Malaga, the name of a region in Spain. When he was older, Yakov told him it should probably be said Malagueña in the original Spanish.

“It’s a flamenco song,” Yakov said as he glanced over the phrase Victor had written out for him. “Several skaters use it.” Yakov snorted. “And it’s appropriately dramatic for you.”

So Victor took to the internet, which was still in its fledgling and developmental stages, but which had enough mojo to find him a copy of the song. He listened to it once all the way through, the song full of sharp and passionate beats that he had known all his life.

He listened to it again, and then a third time.

Then he deleted the file, and from then on made it a point to turn away whenever he heard strains of it sliding through the air. Who had time for love when there were championships to win?

Victor put the song firmly out of his mind, mostly successfully, until he was twenty-six and trying for a fifth straight Grand Prix gold medal. On the ice was a skater from Japan, Katsuki Yuuri. Victor had not yet seen Katsuki’s routines for the year, since Katsuki as usual shared an assignment each with Christophe and Cao Bin. Victor was wearing headphones when Katsuki took to the ice, but watched nonetheless. Unbidden, the music came to mind as Katsuki moved. Half-way through, he pulled off the headphones because they weren’t doing any good. Katsuki lived in the music, even with a fall on his quad salchow, which flowed directly from his skates into Victor’s heart.

It wasn’t love, but it was definitely something. Something warm and tempting.

Three days later, Katsuki had failed completely at his free skate, refused Victor’s opening line about a commemorative photo, and spent most of the banquet looking miserable until he’d had too much champagne to care about anything. Katsuki trounced little Yura in a dance off, and then defeated Chris (on the pole!).

“Dance with me,” Yuuri said, the sickly sweet scent of alcohol on his breath as he tugged on Victor’s hand, and Victor would never be able to say why he went along with it other than it was nice to feel something.

The music slipped from one song to the next, and the opening chords had barely played before Victor knew that he wouldn’t be walking away from this encounter with La Malaguena unscathed.

“Be my coach, Victor!” Yuuri proposed, face flushed from either alcohol, or success, or both, and Victor’s heart leapt quite out of his chest.

Months later, on a flight to Japan, Victor would look up how to say La Malagueña in Japanese. It would be nice if Victor could say he was surprised that Yuuri didn’t have it on his own chest. But then, La Malagueña had always been a song about unrequited love. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Starting today, I’m your coach!” shouted Victor, standing naked in the onsen. Yuuri fell back onto the ground behind him. He had always known Victor’s song wouldn’t match his – after all, Yuuri fell for him at age 12, long before they met in person – but it broke his heart a little nevertheless. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Victor learned quickly that the best way to know how Yuuri was actually feeling was to watch him skate when he thought no one could see him. Victor lived for the late evenings of figures, or moments where he’d come back from the rest room or lunch or just been late to practice and Yuuri hadn’t realized he was there yet, so much so that Victor started actively avoiding being seen for a few moments every time he left the rink.

During one of those breaks, Yuuri skated La Malagueña again. The music, which only Yuuri should have heard through his headphones, pounded in Victor’s head and sent his pulse racing. His hand rose involuntary to his chest, his breathing tight and shallow. On the ice, Yuuri was deep into the music, perfectly in sync with the rhythm flowing through Victor. It was even better than it was in Sochi, and Victor fell all over again as Yuuri switched out the choreographed quadruple salchow for the quadruple flip that Yuuri liked to pretend he wasn’t working on whenever Victor wasn’t watching. He fell (still tilting too much on it), but was immediately back up.

There was a triple axel, a combination spin, and as suddenly as the beat started racing between them, Yuuri polished off his final step sequence and came to a halt, breathing hard.

“Yuuri!” Victor shouted, “amazing!”

Yuuri blushed, hand sheepishly behind his head. Victor couldn’t have stopped the smile spreading across his face if he tried.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Yuuri kept getting the oddest sense of déjà vu at the Chugoku Regionals. In the short program, Minami had skated Lohengrin in a costume reminiscent of one that Yuuri wore years ago. Then, as he approached the rink, La Malagueña, his short program from the year before, was playing in the rink. A different variation, of course – the longer Stanley Black version that Kristi Yamaguchi won an Olympic gold medal with in 1992 – but familiar nonetheless.

He paused on his way into the rink to pat Minami on the back, making sure to do so firmly and only after he had walked past Minami so that the younger skater wouldn’t mistake it for a mere push out of Yuuri’s path toward the rink. Waiting at the edge of the rink was Victor, an unusual expression on his face. Yuuri took off his team Japan jacket and held it out for Victor to take.

“Yeah, this costume’s great,” said Victor, “you look beautiful in it.”

Victor fussed with his hair for a moment before noting, “Your lips are chapped.”

Yuuri stood still as Victor pulled out a pot of lip balm and carefully ran his finger along Yuuri’s lips. When he had finished, he stepped forward to hug Yuuri, burying his face in Yuuri’s shoulder.

As the music wound down, Yuuri hugged him back.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Yuuri,” Victor said as he helped fold the costume for Yuuri’s short program to travel to the Cup of China, “what made you choose this costume, anyway? It wasn’t because you knew you wanted to skate Eros with an androgynous feel, right?”

“Right,” Yuuri replied, and touched his mark quickly, unthinkingly. “It’s what you were wearing the first time I saw you skate.”

“Oh?”

“Yes.” Yuuri took the folded costume and placed it on top of his free skate costume. “Scheherazade. Your skating told the most beautiful story I had ever seen.”

Yuuri blushed, looking away, but not before he noticed an answering blush on Victor’s face. With his back turned, Yuuri had no warning for the moment when Victor’s arms wrapped around him.

“I’ll have to keep telling you stories, then,” Victor whispered into Yuuri’s ear, “your majesty.”

“Victor!”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The thing was, Victor didn’t know how to read or speak much Japanese, but long days at the rink occasionally helping the Nishigoris had ensured that “skate” was one of the few words he could recognize. Because of this, he knew that Yuuri’s song started with an “s.” And Yuuri… Victor had been half in love with him before they had spoken a word. Would it really be so shocking if Yuuri knew with only a glimpse? But then why hadn’t he said anything? Unless he couldn’t read Russian, which would actually make a lot of sense.

So that night, when Yuuri had already gone to bed and no one would interrupt him, Victor took out his phone and searched for “Scheherazade in Japanese.” There were a couple of books that popped up as results, and the first one had the title in katakana on the cover.

“What do you think, Makkachin?” Victor asked, petting the world’s best poodle. He turned the screen to her. “Is that Yuuri’s mark?”

“Ruuff!” said Makkachin. Her tail wagged enthusiastically. Victor leaned down to kiss the soft fur on her head.

“I think so, too,” Victor said, resisting the urge to run and ask Yuuri immediately. If nothing else, Victor’s arrival hear had proven that Yuuri didn’t react well to sudden declarations. “We just might get to keep him, after all.”

“Ruuff rufff!” Makkachin answered, putting her head down on Victor’s chest and snuggling in close.

Sleep came easier that night than it had in months.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Here, Yuuri,” Victor said, offering a pair of headphones, “put these on.”

Yuuri turned away from the window out which he’d been watching Japan disappear behind them. “Victor?”

Yuuri’s coach pouted, offering the headphones again. “Take them. I made you a playlist for the flight.”

“Oh. Thank you, Victor,” Yuuri replied, grabbing the headphones, and trying hard to keep himself from reacting when the first song to play was Scheherazade. It was followed by La Malagueña, an odd transition, but then came his current free skate, and the rest of the music was all commonly used in skating, so Yuuri wondered if that might be the playlist theme.

Eventually, Yuuri drifted off to the soothing sounds of instrumental music. 

When he woke up, the playlist had begun to repeat, and Scheherazade was playing once more. Victor was asleep against him, a warm and comforting presence as always. Victor had said that he showed his love by refusing to go easy on Yuuri, who like Scheherazade had to keep spinning tales (skating) to keep his beloved interested. But Victor was more than that. He was kind, the type of genuine kindness that helped Mari take out the trash because the bags were heavy or paid for a round of drinks at the bar simply because he could.

Scheherazade was still playing as Yuuri closed his eyes and fell back asleep.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Yuuri had known since he was twelve years old that he wanted to have Victor all to himself. His beautiful storyteller, with silver hair and bright blue eyes, sweeping across the ice to tell a story just for him. At the Cup of China, for the first time since Victor had come to Hasetsu and given himself to Yuuri, Yuuri had to compete with the hordes of people who wanted Victor’s attention.

“Yuuri, the sin of keeping Victor to yourself is grave,” Christophe told him, after placing an overly friendly hand on Yuuri’s ass. “The whole world is hoping for his return.”

As if Yuuri didn’t know. But that didn’t mean that Yuuri was going to give him up so easily. 

“Phichit,” Yuuri said when he got a moment alone with his friend after the short program, “do you think it’s possible for soulmates to have different songs?”

“Yuuri!” Phichit grinned wickedly, leaning to whisper in Yuuri’s ear. “Does this have to do with a certain someone you’ve always been a little in love with?”

“Heh,” Yuuri laughed, “maybe?”

“Yes! You’re finally going for it?”

“Well… “ Yuuri trailed off. “Do you?”

“Of course,” Phichit replied. “Your song is the song that you fall in love to. I bet there’s lots of couples where they have different songs because the point where they fell in love is different. It’s a regular romantic movie trope. Clearly, you’ve been neglecting your movie education since you went back to Japan.”

“What’s this?” Victor asked, coming up behind Yuuri and casually wrapping an arm around him. Yuuri let himself lean into it, just a little. “You were teaching Yuuri about movies?”

So maybe. Maybe Yuuri could have Victor in all the ways that he wanted him. The possibilities set his mind racing.

Yuuri didn’t sleep much that night.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Yuuri!” Victor said after practice had ended. “Do you mind staying to watch the ice dance? There’s a routine I want to see.”

Yuuri grabbed his skates from the locker room floor, tucking them into his assigned locker before closing it and spinning the lock. “Sure.”

Victor wrapped an arm around Yuuri’s shoulders as they walked through the crowd of journalists to the competitors’ section of the stands. Some of the other skaters were already there, one or two throwing a welcoming wave at Yuuri and Victor as they came in. Christophe, who was sitting with Phichit and Sara, very deliberately looked at Victor’s arm before throwing them a wink. Phichit was less then subtle at taking a picture of them. Yuuri blushed furiously and turned so that Victor would be between him and the other skaters as they sat down.

“Which routine are you waiting for?” Yuuri asked.

Victor put a finger against his lips, smiling a bit. “It’s a very special song for me. I wonder if you can guess?”

It had been lucky, really, when Victor spotted the listing in the event guide – an unexpected chance to ease Yuuri into an idea. 

“Next on the ice, from Germany,” called the announcer, “Jan Müller and Anja Schmidt, skating to Scheherazade.”

With his arm still around Yuuri’s shoulders, Victor could feel the tension as it rose in Yuuri’s shoulders when the song was announced. On the ice, Müller and Schmidt took their starting position. The music started.

“Do you know,” Victor said after the opening flourish sent the skaters on their way across the ice, “I’ve skated to this story before.”

“I remember,” Yuuri replied.

“There’s a version that continues after Scheherazade makes the sultan fall in love with her,” Victor said, “and she eventually comes to fall in love with him, too.”

“Really?” asked Yuuri, eyes still on the skaters below.

“Yes.” Victor said, “In it, Scheherazade and the sultan are soulmates. It takes them a while to figure that out, though.”

“How come?”

“Because,” Victor leaned closer as the music’s clarion call picked up and whispered, “falling in love at different times meant they had different songs.”

The music reached its peak, a canon-like sound filling the stadium. On the ice below them, the skaters must have been doing something impressive, because the audience around them burst into applause. Victor couldn’t have said what it was, though, because Yuuri had turned to look at him and Victor was lost in Yuuri’s warm brown eyes.

After a very long moment, Yuuri, without looking away, replied, “Is that so?”

“Yes,” Victor said. He squeezed Yuuri’s arm where it was in his grasp after Yuuri’s sudden turn had broken his clasp on Yuuri’s shoulders. 

“Oh.” Yuuri said. He turned back to the ice, where the skaters were coming to the end of their program. Victor waited a moment more, and then did likewise. Yuuri leaned back against him, and didn’t move until the program came to a halt.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The next day, Yuuri finished his free skate with a quad flip, ending pose pointing at Victor. He stayed in that position longer than strictly proper and swept into bows, trying to find Victor, who was running around the rink to the kiss and cry.

“Victor!” Yuuri shouted, skating towards him, “I did great, right?”

Victor nodded, and tackled him to the ice with a kiss. As they lay there, Victor’s face beside his, Victor whispered, “My song is your Malagueña. And, sorry about doing this in public.”

Victor leaned back to smile down at him, “It was the only thing I could think of to surprise you more than you surprised me.”

“Really?” Yuuri replied. Victor nodded, an incredibly fond look on his face, and Yuuri smiled back.

**Author's Note:**

> Weeks later, in Barcelona, after dinner with the other skaters:
> 
> “You really don’t remember, Yuuri?” Victor asked. “And to think I fell in love with you on a dance floor that you don’t even remember!”
> 
> “We danced to La Malagueña that night?” Yuuri’s eyes were wide. Victor shook his head.
> 
> “Yuuri….” He said, a slow drawl of his lover’s name. 
> 
> Yuuri flushed and turned his head away. 
> 
> Victor shrugged, leaning in to kiss him anyway. “We’ll just have to dance it again after you win gold.”
> 
> “EH?!?!”
> 
> ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
> 
> Inspiration for Victor’s free skate taken from Evan Lysacek’s program to Scheherezade. I’d picked the music first and then checked to see if a man had ever skated it, and sure enough there was an Olympic gold medal winning performance without any quads in it done by a man wearing a black costume and skating the woman’s role in the story. Also, the composer’s Russian. And the way Lysacek skates spread eagles reminds me ridiculous much of the way that Victor does them, and some of the moves look like the section that we see Yuuko and Yuuri imitating. So! I’m not saying this is what Victor actually skated, but it’s for sure my headcanon now.
> 
> Inspiration for Yuuri’s short program taken from Javier Fernandez’s 2015-2017 short program to La Malaguena. Again, I started with the song, and then got pleasantly surprised when I checked for a mens’ routine and found one that pretty much perfectly fit within Yuuri’s abilities and strengths. (Literally, in the version I watched (Worlds 2016), Javier did a quad toe-triple toe combo, fell on a quad salchow, and made his last jump a triple axel in the bonus time, followed by a gorgeous step sequence. It was also choreographed with assistance from the Spanish National Ballet. If that isn’t a Yuuri program, I don’t know what is.) 
> 
> I’ve decided that Yuuri’s theme for the year of the Sochi GPF was “Shall We Dance?” and that his short program was latin ballroom inspired and his free skate came from quick step / jitterbug styles. It works well with what we see of his costumes, so I’m going with it. Also, Phichit spent the year (before the Grand Prix Finals, anyway), going “Shall we dance? More like Shall We Skate?!,” and singing every time. Yuuri regrets his life choices.


End file.
